Good omens – We have set poem 141 by Sappho of Lesbos to music, inspired by New Baroque 1 by Tigran Hamasyan.

κῆ δ’ ἀμβροσίας μὲν
κράτηρ ἐκέκρατ’,
Ἔρμαις δ’ ἔλων ὄλπιν θέοισ’ ἐοινοχόησε.
κῆνοι δ’ ἄρα πάντες
καρχάσι’ ἦχον
κἄλειβον, ἀράσαντο δὲ πάμπαν ἔσλα γάμβρωι.

***

But there a bowl of ambrosia
had been mixed
and Hermes taking the jug poured wine for the gods
and then they all
held cups
and poured libation and prayed every good thing for the bridegroom

The prophetic eye tells the story of those who dare to discover – Original music and lyrics. The lyrics are inspired by “Pitó” (Python) by Guim Valls, images from the poetry book “Le vent nous emportera”, by Abbas Kiarostami as translated into Catalan by Xavier Valls Guinovart, and by “Poem” by Parmenides, as translated by Peter Kingsley.

Questa notte arriva un invitato.
So dove siederà.
So quello che berrà.
So quello che dirà.

Non tornerá l’acqua dei fiumi che vanno verso il mare.
L’acqua sembra calma ma precede un fulmine feroce.

Suonerà un tuono nel paese, un cane abbaierà.
Le pietre da sole rotoleranno per diventare sabbia.

Una mela cade dall’albero, solo io la vedo.
Il mio occhio è come una fontana che guarda solamente.

Ho mille risposte sulle labbra, io ho mille risposte.

Le giumente portano fin dove arriva il desiderio
all’invitato pronto per quello che non si può dire.

Tre donzelle indican la via mentre con le mani
sollevano impassibili il velo dal loro volto.

Niente strapperà il suo cuore, quando arriverà.
Non ci sarà alcuna partizione, solo unità.

Ho mille risposte sulle labbra, io ho mille risposte.
Nessuno mi domanda niente.

***

A guest is coming tonight.
I know where he’ll sit.
I know what he’ll drink.
I know what he’ll say.

River water that flows to the sea will not return.
The water seems calm, but fierce lightning comes after.

Thunder will sound in the village, a dog will bark.
Stones will roll and grind themselves into sand.

An apple falls from the tree, seen only by me.
My eye is like a fountain that only looks.

I have a thousand answers on my lips, I have a thousand answers.

The mares lead to where desire reaches
the guest, ready for all that cannot be told.

Three maidens point the way,
impassively removing the veils from their faces.

Nothing will tear his heart out when he arrives.
There will be no division, only unity.

I have a thousand answers on my lips, I have a thousand answers.
But no-one asks me anything.

The slow, unstoppable course of the existence of every little thing – Original music and lyrics inspired by the last scene of Chaitanya Tamhane’s film “The Disciple”.

Yo planté un árbol,
semilla de tamarindo.
Estaba junto a un pozo.
Oh oh oh oh, junto a un pozo.

Yo miré en el agua
el oro que se reflejaba.
La cara me lavaba
Oh oh oh oh, en el agua.

El pozo dio peces
y el árbol, buena sombra.
Oh oh oh oh, dio peces
Oh oh oh oh, dio sombra.

Un día junto al pozo
llegó una cierva.
Se dispuso en la sombra
y parió solita.
Oh oh oh, fueron cinco,
cinco cervatillos.

Y cuatro bebieron
voraces de su madre.
El árbol fue tumba
del quinto cervatillo.
Oh oh oh oh, el árbol
Oh oh oh oh, fue tumba.

Un gorrión pequeño
en su canción lo advertía:
“Oh oh, la vida es breve,
la sed y el pozo, infinitos.”

Los peces besaban
la moneda de plata
y hacia el fondo nadaban
Oh oh oh oh, del agua.

Y en lo profundo
la sed decía:
Oh oh oh oh, ¿qué buscas?
Oh oh oh, ¿tú qué buscas?

Yo planté un árbol,
semilla de tamarindo.
Oh oh oh, ¿tú qué buscas?
Oh oh oh oh, ¿qué buscas?

***

I planted a tree,
a tamarind seed.
It was beside a well.
Oh oh oh oh, beside a well.

I looked in the water,
the gold reflected there.
Washed my face
Oh oh oh oh, in the water.

The well gave fish
and the tree, good shade.
Oh oh oh oh, it gave fish
Oh oh oh oh, it gave shade.

One day a deer came
beside the well.
It lay in the shade
and gave birth all alone.
Oh oh oh, there were five,
there were five little fawns.

And four drank
thirstily from their mother.
The tree was the grave
of the fifth little fawn.
Oh oh oh oh, the tree
Oh oh oh oh, was its grave. 

A little sparrow
warned in his song:
“Oh oh, life is short, but
thirst and the well have no end.”

The fish kissed
the silver coin
and swam to the bottom
Oh oh oh oh, of the water.

And in the depths
thirst said:
Oh oh oh oh, what do you seek?
Oh oh oh, what do you seek?

I planted a tree,
a tamarind seed.
Oh oh oh, what do you seek?
Oh oh oh oh, what do you seek?

The value of a promise, and tragic destiny – We’ve changed the lyrics of a traditional Sephardic song to tell the Biblical story of Jephthah, which we read in the novel “Profecia” (Prophecy) by Raül Garrigasait.

Si veriash a la rana, al gameyo y a la cabra,
bilbilikos y gaselas rodeando por la plasa.

Si oyerash a la flauta, al tambor y la mandolina
tanyendo una melodia, selebrando una alegria
es ke yegan las armadas kon viktorias y kon grasyias.

Ben seni severim
Çok seni severim

Adelante va la ija del rey unika y mansevika
kon un bayle mas ermozo ke la roza en el mez de mayo.

Y el padre kon tristeza akodraba la prometa
ke él izo en la gerra demandando a Dio fortaleza:
“El ke me resiba primo te daré en sakrifisio.”

“Lo ke a Dio es prometido hay que komplir, padre mio.
solo dos mezes te pido para yorar serka del rio.”
En el ayre buelan biervos ke kontienen el destino.

Ben seni severim
Çok seni severim

***

If you could see the frog, the camel and the goat,
nightingales and gazelles going round the square.

If you could hear the flute, the drum and the mandolin
Playing a tune, celebrating joyfully
Because the armies are coming with victory thanksgiving.

I love you
I love you very much.

Forward goes the king’s graceful only daughter
with a dance more beautiful than a rose in May.

And her father sadly remembers the promise
he made in the war, asking God for strength:
“I will sacrifice to you the first thing that greets me.”

“You cannot break a promise to God, father.
I ask you only for two months to cry by the river.”
Flying words in the air contain our destiny.

I love you
I love you very much.

The conception or the beginning – We have interpreted this piece by Pérotin with lyric poetry by Philip the Chancellor (13th century). We wanted to sing an octave apart, together but separated.

Beata viscera
Marie virginis
cuius ad ubera
rex magni nominis;
veste sub altera
vim celans numinis
dictavit federa
Dei et hominis.
O mira novitas
et novum gaudium,
matris integrita
post puerperium.

Legis mosayce
clausa misteria;
nux virge mystice
nature nescia;
aqua de silice,
columpna previa,
prolis dominice
signa sunt propera.
O mira novitas
et novum gaudium,
matris integrita
post puerperium.

***

Blessed belly
of the Virgin Mary,
at whose breast
the famed King,
concealing his divine power
with a different appearance,
established the alliance
between God and humankind.
Oh what an unsuspected wonder!
And what new joy!
That the mother is whole
after giving birth.

Impenetrable are
the mysteries of Moses’ law,
the fruit of the mystical bush
is strange to Nature;
water springs from the rock,
a column opens the way:
insistent signs
for the Children of the Lord.
Oh what an unsuspected wonder!
And what new joy!
That the mother is whole
after giving birth.

The treacherous calm – A song we composed by turning the water temperature data collected by the Argo robots drifting in the Mediterranean into sound. We wrote the lyrics inspired by the paragraph from the “Odyssey” in which Ulysses hears the song of the sirens, and by Seferis’ poetry.

Van desbocades les lleis de la terra,
s’enuncien en la calma de la mar.
Coneixem la teva ànima i el teu avenir:
escolta’ns i sabràs més que ningú.
Els secrets de la mar s’obliden a la costa.

***

The laws of the Earth are unleashed,
they are enunciated in the calm of the sea.
We know your soul and your future:
listen to us and you will know more than anyone.
On the coast, the secrets of the sea are forgotten.

An unfortunate existence, or bad omens – We’ve covered “Mano décima” (Tenth hand) by Nerobambola: we’ve constructed the character of Juan the Roman from a single verse and we’ve made the guitar riff into a refrain.

Juan el romano
que perdió la mano,
el juego y las cartas,
no puedes salvarlo.

Juan el romano
no estaba muy sano
y a sus tres hermanas
molestó demasiado.

Juan el romano,
sucio y desgraciado,
lo que poseía,
todo era robado.

Juan el romano,
lleno de pecado,
de amores faltoso,
era un desalmado.

Juan el romano
se ahogó en un pantano.
Nadie estuvo triste,
que murió olvidado.

Juan el romano
que perdió la mano,
el juego y las cartas,
no puedes salvarlo.

***

Juan the Roman
who lost his hand,
the game and his cards.
You can’t save him.

Juan the Roman
wasn’t all that healthy
and he annoyed his
three sisters too much.

Juan the Roman,
dirty and unfortunate;
everything he had,
was stolen.

Juan the Roman,
full of sin,
and lacking love,
was a scoundrel.

Juan the Roman
drowned in a swamp.
No-one was sad,
that he died forgotten.

Juan the Roman
who lost his hand,
the game and the cards.
You can’t save him.

The apocalypse or an ending – We have set to music an extract from Dies irae, a sequence composed in the 13th century by Friar Thomas of Celano, referring to Chapters 4-7 of the Apocalypse.

Tuba, mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulcra regionum
Coget omnes ante tronum.

Mors stupebit et natura,
Cum resurget creatura,
Iudicanti responsura.

Liber scriptus proferetur,
In quo totum continetur,
Unde mundus judichetuuur.

Iudex ergo cum sedebit,
Quidquid latet, apparebit:
Nil inultum remanebit.

Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
Quem patronum rogaturus,
Cum vix iustus sit securus?

***

The trumpet, offering an admirable sound
for the tombs around the world,
calls everyone before the throne.

Death and Nature are astonished,
when all creatures are revived
to account for themselves before the Judge.

The book in which all is contained
and by which the world will be judged
is fully revealed.

When the Judge sits
all that is hidden will be shown,
nothing will remain unpunished.

What can I say, poor me?
To whom must I beg for protection,
when not even the just can rest easy?

The thirst for what you desire and do not receive – An original song we’ve written inspired by the form of the mantinades of Crete and the song “H αγάπη είναι πόλεμος” by Giorgos Manolakis.

Si no en raja és que no n’hi ha, que la font està seca.
Tant com l’aigua vull la veu que surt d’aquesta boca.
La meva pena és el fruit de la planta que rego.
Cada dia sens falta l’he cuidada i ara amb el plor l’ofego.

***

If it doesn’t flow then there isn’t any, the spring is dry.
As much as the water, I want the voice that comes from that mouth.
My sorrow is the fruit of the plant I water.
I have cared for it every day, without fail, and now I drown it with tears.

The mirror; the other view of reality – A song we’ve created based on inverting the tunes and lyrics of Tamarindo

ozop nu a otnuj oh oh oh oh
ozop nu a otnuj abatse
odniramat ed allimes
lobra nu etnalp oy

auga le ne oh oh oh oh
abaval em arac al
abajelfer es euq oro le
auga le ne erim oy

arbmos oid oh oh oh oh
secep oid oh oh oh oh
arbmos aneub lobra le y
secep oid ozop le

sollitavrec ocnic
ocnic noreuf oh oh oh oh
atilos oirap y
arbmos al ne osupsid es
avreic anu ógell
ozop la otnuj aíd nu

abmut euf oh oh oh oh
lobra le oh oh oh oh
ollitavrec otniuq led
abmut euf lobra le
erdam us ed secarov
noreibeb ortauc y

sotinifni ozop le y des al
everb se adiv al oh oh
aítrebda ol noicnac us ne
oñeuqep noirrog nu

auga led oh oh oh oh
nabadan odnof el aicah y
atalp ed adenom al
nabaseb secep sol

sacsub euq ut oh oh oh
sacsub euq oh oh oh oh
aíced des al
odnuforp ol ne y

sacsub euq oh oh oh oh
sacsub euq ut oh oh oh
odniramat ed allimes
lobra nu etnalp oy

The instant before the disaster – Original text and music. These tunes were already playing before the song began and they’ll still be playing even if the album ends.

L’ai només pot advertir el que et caurà a sobre,
és tan llarg el ressò del crit premonitori.
És tan llarg el ressò d’aquest crit.

Tot vessarà desbocat quan el got sigui ple però
és tan ínfim l’espai que ocupa una gota.
És tan ínfim l’espai d’una gota.

El pont caurà desplomat esborrant el camí.
És tan prima la corda que fa que s’aguanti.
És tan prima la corda que aguanta.

***

The cry can only warn of what’s about to hit you,
the echo of the warning shout is so long.
The echo of that shout is so long.

When the glass is full it will overflow, but
a drop fills such a tiny space.
A drop fills such a tiny space.

The bridge will collapse, wiping out the path.
The rope that holds it up is so thin.
The rope that holds it is so thin.